The Destiny of the Ancients
by 115SecretsToUnveil
Summary: (Sequel to The Ascension of the Ancients) Edward Richtofen, with the last of his sanity gone, leads the other three on a mission to take over the world unbeknownst to them. However, he has to contend with several obstacles to reach his goal and the growing suspicion of his reluctant allies. The destiny of the world hinges on his decisions, but he only wants the ultimate power.
1. To Serve Your Masters - The Game

_A/N - Here is the first chapter of The Destiny of the Ancients. I hope you enjoy this as much as the ones that came before it! Yes, it's a sequel, if you missed it. So you'll have to read The Will of the Ancients and The Ascension of the Ancients first for it to make sense. Although, you can jump in if you want, however, there won't be any recapping._

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The Destiny of the Ancients<em>**

* * *

><p><strong>To Serve Your Masters<strong>

Walram Fleischer stepped through the grand doorway, his gaze traversing over the elaborate room. The ceiling towered high in the air. The walls were decorated in intricate carvings of battles and creatures. The marble floor had just been polished, shining under foot. Far in front of him were two thrones interlinked to each other, standing tall and proud.

He traipsed down the long hall, his footsteps echoing hollowly in his ears. He reached the empty seats, falling slowly to his knees before the thrones, bowing his head.

He adjusted his long coat, fiddling with the buttons, blinking a few times. He stared at the illuminati necklace resting on his chest, wondering vaguely why he still wore it. It's not like he needed it any longer. Then he turned his thought process elsewhere. He was thinking on what he'd say.

"My masters," he finally whispered, staring at the marble patterns on the floor. "I'm unsettled by what has happened."

He was a greeted with silence, so he continued.

"You said we'd rule the realms. You said we'd claim Earth. So why is it falling to destruction? I thought my destiny was to lead the men of that realm while holding a leash on your rebellious son!" His voice rose in frustration. "Why are is your necromancy running rampant?! Why is Edward resisting the program every time something from his past happens upon him?! Even after the reconditioning..." He trailed off, listening to the emptiness.

Finally, soft footsteps appeared behind him. "Do not fret, dear Walram." Whispered a feminine voice. "Edward is powerful in spirit, but not unbreakable."

Walram looked up to see a tall skeleton approaching. As it grew closer, muscles, blood and flesh appeared on her. They twined together like a puzzle, fitting perfectly until she stood, her elegant face locked on him. He dropped his gaze again quickly, hoping that he had not angered her with his impatience.

It was Svenna, one of the two Masters. At least one of them had bothered to answer him.

"The cleansing is the first step in gaining the Earth." She resumed. "Humans are not worth saving at this point. They are weak..."

Walram looked up after a few minutes. "I was to rule them." He reminded in a calm voice.

She wore her usual attire with her long black hair falling over the dark fur robes. Around her neck, the fur was puffed up. Her elongated cranium marked her from other Vrilyans and as a Master as did the long, blue-glowing veins twisting up her face, and sky-like irises holding a faint shimmer of unnatural light.

"You will gain your husks, as long as you keep Edward on course." She stated, pursing her lips.

"Husks... I was to have the humans. The people."

"Why does it matter?" The Master asked. "Necromancy is part of direct control. You can't control something that has its own soul."

"Is that why Edward resist? Then why do we try?"

"By all rights, Edward should be a Master at our side. However, he is stubborn. He chose this course, and we'll give it to him." She took a seat, interlocking her fingers. "The program was a prototype, new. We were experiencing ways to control certain subjects without taking their souls first, so that they may retain their identity. Edward must keep his soul if we are to enslave him to the device."

Walram shook his head. "The girl...is she not already enslaved? Why can't we use her? I know it was not the plan...but I've found in my time that sometimes taking the best you can get will save you a lot of trouble."

"The girl cannot be reprogrammed. The amount of trouble we went through to program Edward would be necessary for it to work. And that much would kill her, for she is young and fragile. Then we'd be back to nothing and the cleansing would not happen."

"The program was not a prototype then," whispered Walram as he came to the realization. "At least, not for just anyone. For a Master."

Svenna nodded. "Right now, Edward is the only surviving Master besides Sarth and I. He may be human at this point, but his soul was able to withstand reconditioning. On top of that, he is a superhuman among humans, with the Divinium coursing as thick as his own blood within his veins."

"I believe he has the others with him too. They also have the Divinium in their blood."

"The elites of Vrilya? General Masaki, Mercenary Dempsey, and Lord Belinski?"

"Yes."

"That is good. It will be good to have more recruits when the time comes to raise those of strength...to supremacy."

Two pairs of eyes locked on each other, one pale ice and the other shining blue.

"I know I've expressed this before, but I still wish to become a Master..." Walram's voice was strong, confident as his icy gaze held.

"In time, dear Walram." She whispered, leaning forward. "Patience."

Walram watched her fade from view. The newly form body evaporating like mist.

He didn't understand why they made him wait still. What hadn't he done for them? He was by far their most loyal servant in Vrilya. Actually, anywhere in the four realms, traversing around to do their bidding. He had given his life to them.

And still, he must wait.

* * *

><p>I. The Game<p>

The bare hand brushed through the dark, unruly hair. Bloodstained were both, the long fingers crusted with drying gore, the dirty locks caked with it. Neither had been given over to cleanliness in awhile and the thick hair was far beyond saving at this point.

Edward stared into the goopy puddle of brown water, watching his still, unkempt reflection in the stagnant liquid. He was squatting down, with grass and weeds sticking up around him. Their blades framed his gaunt face in the mirrored surface.

His thoughts wandered as he sat completely still, like a statue in the shallow mud. He'd been wondering when the dead would stop coming, but they wouldn't. Wave after wave, they kept coming. There were occasional pauses. Moments like this when there was nothing. A silent emptiness.

However, this pause was strange because it'd been long. Hours maybe. It'd been too long since a single undead had barreled through the swamp. And it made him wonder just what was happening.

It nearly killed him. He longed for their hollow screams to fill his ears, if only to drown out the voices in his mind. His loneliness was only missed when he was alone. They muttered, even now.

_We are always here._

_We will always be here._

He was entranced at the matted hair that was his own. Finally, it began to bug him until the mosquitos buzzing around his ears seemed like a minor thing. He grabbed his Bowie and held it up in the dim light of the midday clouds. He grabbed his hair almost fiercely with one hand and began to cut it with the blade carefully. The dark locks fell into the puddle, distorting his reflection. But he kept at his task until there was no hair left.

With a glance around, he located his hat nearby, laying in the weeds. Somehow it had escaped falling into the water and becoming saturated. He seized it and placed it firmly on his head.

"Ah, gut." He whispered.

He stared at his hands, his long fingers bloodied. He stood and stretched. Stepping through the shallow pools, he climbed onto the boardwalk leading back into the main hut. The large hut stood tall as he entered, it's wooden surfaces shining in the watery light.

He entered a side room, looking around. A long shelf adorned the wall, carrying multiple items. A nice pair of elbow-length, ebony-colored gloves lay on it. He grabbed them, feeling their smooth texture. He nodded appreciatively before placing them back on the shelf.

He quickly yanked off his military jacket along with his grenade belt and weapons, setting them aside for a minute on a crate. He stood there a moment, amused by his tie hanging on the sweat, gore, and blood-stained white dress shirt. He then undid his belt, tucking his shirt into his pants again. After adjusting his clothing to his desire he put on his coat again, buttoning it. It was sweltering with it on, but he refused to have it any other way. He adjusted his bars, his colors, the Swastika armband. Then he slid the gloves on, letting them reside inside his sleeves.

He grabbed his weapons, the MP40 and Wunderwaffe DG2 and left the room.

"Now I look...dangerous, Ja?" He asked the empty room, not expecting an answer. He adjusted his visor, listening the crescendo of voices increasing in him mind. Always there.

Just then, the lonely yelling of a dead body rang out over the swamp. It was time to kill more undead!

He walked outside, hefting his MP40. The steel barrel glinted nicely in the thin light of the muggy air. He eyed the mud and water around him, taking in the swampy arena where the fight with the dead would take place. He caught sight of faint movement.

A zombie clawed through the mud, it's browned hands pushing soil away as it's rotting head appeared. Two luminous eyes glared upward at the doctor who grinned back. A pull of the trigger spattered the dead man's head across the ground.

"Poof! Your head is gone!"

Bloodlust filled his eyes as Edward saw another undead limping from down the boardwalk. It's body was clotted with mud and maggots. It's intestines threatened to spill from his midsection. It was missing part of its arm and it's uniform was barely hanging together.

It was walking too slowly from Richtofen. He sprinted forward and in one deft movement, stabbed it's face with a slick squishing noise. The blood streamed from its head as it collapsed backward with a thud, it's eyes loosing their unnatural light.

"Ah, zhis is much better zhan my Hitler Youth knife!" Edward laughed, thinking of the former Fuhrer's club for the children of Germany. Of course he'd never been in it, but the Nazi armband on his arm told him he was a Nazi. He had a military dagger, not a child's toy.

In fact, he was uncertain just who he was. All he knew was that he loved killing. He loved his enemy's screams of pain as they fell before his power. Nothing was better than that sensation.

He turned away from the unmoving body and reentered the main hut. Something new caught his attention as he rounded a corner. A large, strange box with question marks was shoved up against the wall. Above it in chalk was a child's drawing of a house or maybe one of the huts. The words: _LOOK UP TO SEE THE LIGHT_ were also written there, with an arrow pointing the roof of the drawn hut.

"Oorah meatsack!" Came Dempsey's voice from another room. A zombie howled and then gurgled, presumably on its own blood.

How Richtofen loathed that rough voice and degrading mannerism. He shrugged to himself, not wanting to think on it at that point, and leaned over the box, inspecting it. It was wooden, about four feet in length, and had nothing interesting about it except for the two, glowing question marks on it's lid. It had a latch and he tried to flip it.

It wouldn't budge.

_More points._

_You need more._

He needed more...points?

He scratched his forehead in bewilderment.

Just then, Nikolai walked into the room, fresh bloodstains on his uniform. He burped, shaking a bottle. It's contents sloshed. Then his eyes widened as he saw the mysterious box.

"Chyort, what did you bring in here, you fascist bastard?" He demanded.

Edward grinned and shrugged. "I didn't bring it, hehe. Ja, I believe it vas zhat dark vone! Or maybe die Illuminati."

Nikolai walked over and inspected it. Then he reached out, unlatched the lid and flipped it open. The glow from inside fell over them and in it's light were several weapons cycling through one another. While they cycled, a small, simple musical tune played.

"Fascinating," Edward whispered, leaning forward. "How did _you do_ _zhat_, Nikolai?"

"I. Flipped. Lid," explained the Russian slowly, as if he were talking to a child. "Didn't you see? Oh, and there was something about points..."

The weapons in the box quit cycling in the light, settling on one in particular.

"Ah! A flamezhrower! Vunderbar! I love zhe smell of burning flesh!" Richtofen reached forward to grab it, but his gloved hands went right through the weapon as if it were smoke. His brow furrowed in confusion.

The Soviet reached forward and seized the weapon while glaring at the German fiercely. Instantly, a fuel tank appeared on his back. "Fuck, this is heavy. Like my fifth wife." He said, stumbling a bit before becoming accustomed to it.

Richtofen laughed. "Zhe box vould not allow me to _claim your prize_! Very interesting! It appears ve are in some kind of game!"

The voices began speaking to him in their distorted voices.

_The game is hers._

_The dark one._

_You must play to win. _

_There is only one way to win._

"Do you hear zhem talking to me?" Richtofen asked the Russian who just stared back at him.

"Ugh, this is giving me headache. I'm going to go fry some hellpigs!" Nikolai left the room slowly, hefting his new weapon.

Suddenly music and drums sounded, a lonely note rang through the room.

"The hell's going on?" Dempsey growled as he stomped into the room from outside. His eyes widened upon seeing the box. "Woah."

Richtofen growled randomly, "I hate you Dempsey, you do not enjoy zhe pain!" He stomped away in an almost childish manner, feeling the American's hate-filled glare on his back as he walked outside towards the communications hut.

It occurred to him as a few zombies clambered out of the ground nearby._ A game._ Of course it was a game. Someone had turned all of the undead into some sort of game. As if an apocalypse was not a big deal. The dark one. Whatever that was.

The doctor grinned as he killed more undead with his MP40. "YOU ALL DIE!" He declared as heads popped easily.

Again, the drums and music sounded, followed by the same note.

He walked along the boardwalk, listening to the sounds of more zombies coming to be killed by his dangerous and wonderful weapons.

"Zhis is a fun game, indeed!" He muttered, twisting towards two zombies approaching him on the right. He finished the task with a few bursts of bullets.

That's when he noticed Takeo trotting slowly outside from the hut, two or three zombies were on his tail. As he watched, the Samurai turned and killed them with quick short blasts from his Arisaka rifle. "You! Will! Die!" He declared, lowering his weapon. He turned towards the German and tilted his head. "Greetings, Doctor."

"Hi Takeo," Richtofen muttered quietly.

He tried to remember something about the Jap. Then the remembrance of the Samurai nearly killing him back at the asylum came over him. He crossed his arms, annoyed. He felt a tug of other memories trying to bother him, but he shrugged them away.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the warrior walked down the creaking planks towards the communications room. Then he was splashing through the shallow water where the boards had been destroyed. Edward raked his gaze over the trees and the mist that had settled in around the place. He heard a yell from somewhere in the distance, probably Tank or Nikolai fighting the dead.

The drums and music sounded with the following note.

Not long after, zombies trickled in from areas nearby and some climbed from the ground. They staggered slowly up onto the walkway while Edward took his shots, beheading them. He glanced at Takeo, fighting further away.

"Fresh meat!" He yelled at the top of his lungs as more undead fell to his sporadic bursts. "Schweinhunde! DIE!"

_"Double points!"_ The demonic voice announced.

Edward laughed, "I don't need to get paid for zhis pleasure!". He was getting more of those point things for less now! He stabbed at the zombies, while dodging the swings from their decayed hands.

"I AM A GOD!" he declared at the top of his lungs.

Twenty points, Twenty points, Twenty again and then finally two-hundred and sixty points for each. He wasn't sure just how he knew that, but somehow he did. He figured it was part of the game

_THE BLOOD!_

_THE GLORIOUS DEATH!_

_MORE!_

_MORE PAIN THIS TIME!_

"Yes, yes, Masters...One more dies in your service!" He giggled as another zombie fell with his knife in its skull. Blood drenched him wonderfully. The last one of the wave fell and the music sounded again.

_It seems there are rounds. There are more and they are stronger each round, I noticed,_ Richtofen thought to himself. _So now it's round five._

Then a very heavy mist descended on the swamp. Cold and unforgiving, it held something deadly within. Edward hurried down the planks towards the communications room, soon splashing through warm water. He heard the sound of lightning striking nearby. Richtofen made it into the communications hut, he noticed a strange machine, but had not time to investigate it. He turned around to face the mist and what it held, and without a word, Takeo joined him at the door.

"Zhe vorlds, zhey break in two." Richtofen stated in wonder. Takeo shot him a strange look.

Two hell-hounds tore out of the mist, howling hungrily. Both of the men unleashed a volley of bullets on them until they dropped. Another one behind those two was on fire and it exploded when it died, showering blood and fur in wide arcs.

"Ve should be training zhem, not killing zhem!" Richtofen exclaimed.

One more lightning strike announced a new hound's presence. It tore from the fog. Unfortunately, Takeo's Arisaka clicked on empty.

"I need AMMUNITION!" He snarled.

Richtofen annihilated the beast's face before it could reach its prey. It fell dead in the swampy water, the body spilling fresh blood. Floating above it's corpse was a strange container floating in green light.

Takeo claimed it easily and without hesitation. _"Max Ammo."_

"The Emperor has given us a bounty of ammo!" He exclaimed joyfully.

Richtofen walked towards the machine now. It was red and white and had Jugger-nog written on the front. He inspected it curiously.

"The spirits made it appear when I entered this place." Takeo whispered behind him.

Edward touched the machine. The Juggernog machine played its jingle calmly in the room.

_"~Big and strong...~"_

It required 2,500 points to drink. He had enough, so he pressed the button. A bottle was dispensed from it. They heard it bounced down in the machine. Richtofen bent and grabbed the bottle in his hands.

_"~Reach for Juggernog tonight!~"_

"What is it?" The Samurai wondered.

"An enhanced drink developed by ou... I mean... It's a perk!" Edward responded. He drank it down and large, quick gulps. "JA, JA! I NEED A JUGGERNOG TONIGHT!" He threw the glass down, listening to the satisfying shatter of glass.

Takeo shrugged and did the same.

Edward went to investigate the communications equipment in the side room that was dark with only gray light pouring in through the hole in the ceiling to illuminate it. The half-boarded widows revealed more swamp further out and long-branched trees with trailing leaves and vines.

He poured over the radios and electronics tucked into the shadows, but all of them buzzed uselessly as he messed with the wires and antennas. He received nothing but more static and useless noise. He knew they were cut off from all communication.

From the doorway nearby, the Samurai watched him silently.

Richtofen decided he didn't like it, so he entered the other room. The walls glistened in moisture and it was darker. The radios here were also useless. Nearby, a lantern on a crate leaned against the wall and a light dangling from the ceiling was to his immediate right, casting much of the room in shadow. On the table it hung over was a telephone that seemed to still work because it was beeping loudly as it hung off its hook, having fallen to the floor.

Eagerly, Richtofen rushed forward and yanked it up into the air and into his hands. His fingers went to work as he dialed 1-1-5, an emergency communication that should link him up with Griffon station immediately.

It range once.

Someone picked up.

_"I...know...where you're sleepingggg..."_ Whispered a breathy voice on the other line. It clicked off and the phone died.

Edward frowned at it, a little peeved. He dropped the useless phone.

They truly were in the dark one's game.

The first notes of an eerie song began to play.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End of chapter 1<strong>_

I hope you liked how I incorporated the game functions into the story! :D I was excited by how well the game stuffs(Especially Richtofen's quotes) fit into my story. I hadn't heard them for awhile and looked them up and was like, "YES!"

Anyways, I'd like to hear what you thought! :D


	2. The One - Saving the Killer

About the Special Thanks... Whoops I forgot about that last chapter! XD Sorry about that! Anyways, enjoy the story!

* * *

><p><span><strong>Special Thanks!<strong>

**xMechaSheikx** - True. Is there anyway to save the doctor now? And the Masters h- oops, don't wanna spoil it! :D

**Ice Fir** - Yes, we must ascension indeed! Thanks for the review, fave, and follow.

**AHero** - :D I'm glad you like the way I've done the story! Thanks for the follow and your more than welcome to write about Mob of the Dead. ;)

**PrettyPrincess45** - Thanks for the reviews, follow and faves. I'm not sure if you know, but your PM service has been disabled so I couldn't message you a thanks, so I'll just thank you here.

**YourBestFriendAizen** - Yay, you finally got around to reading! (^_^) XD you have no idea, the zombies storyline is a big mess of clues and mysteries, and I'm attempting to sort it out and add in a little! :D Glad you liked the way I did it! :)

Please let me know if I missed you, things have been hectic lately!

* * *

><p>Hope you all enjoy this one! :D<p>

* * *

><p>II. The One<p>

The sound of the music's haunting notes filled the air. Soon, the mournful sounds of the instruments became mixed with the heavy beat of drums and the complementing strumming of a heavy guitar. The overall feeling was one of sorrow and creepiness.

This music rang out over the fog-laden swamp as the undead came to try and take the survivor's flesh once again.

_~All my life I've been debating.~_

But the zombies were soon falling in the chaotic fight, their bodies going limp on the ground as bright bursts of lightning raced amongst them in thick, glowing chains of energy. Their flesh crinkled under the ferocious power, shriveled and dried. Some of their meat fell off in desiccated, burned clumps, filling the air with the smell of rotten, charred skin.

_~All the crows they sit there waiting.~_

More electricity shot out and caught the beasts. The force of it ripped at them monstrously, knocking them off their feet with the initial blasts. They shuddered under the impact, howling in their human memories of what pain must have been, but not quite feeling it.

_~Wondering what I'm going to eat.~_

"FEEL ZHE POWER SURGE ZHROUGH YOUR ROTTEN VEINS!"

_~Until I have it, I can't breathe.~_

Edward laughed at their apparent pain, enjoying their turmoil as only a sadist would. It pleased the voices in his mind and made him feel exhilarated, powerful.

_~I finally see you on the floor.~_

Richtofen was joined near the communications room by the others, who had been chased from the main hut by the risen bodies.

~Y_our heart's not beating anymore.~_

The four took a stand together as the corpses came at them in a spitting, screaming, and hungry wave.

_~My lust for you just cannot wait.~_

And unfortunately, the undead were only getting stronger. They were uncertain as to why but the doctor himself did have a few guesses.

_~Your skin it tastes like chocolate.~_

_"Insta-Kill!"_

Richtofen rushed forward. "AHHHHHHHH!" He howled in bloodlust, screaming at his foe in eagerness. "MORE! MORE!"

_~Staring blankly at the sun.~_

His knife crushed a pair of orange-glowing eyes.

_~Waiting for my time to come.~_

He yanked it back, allowing the delicious spurt of blood spray across his face

_~Your happy life it makes me sick.~_

Another chest exploded in a fountain of blood.

_~All the screaming sounds like music.~_

The knife spun, killing once more.

_~Lucid are my holy dreams.~_

It plunged into rotten bodies until the Insta-kill was gone, taking out many. "FEAR ME!"

_~Someone tell me what they mean.~_

Then, they got another power-up.

_"KA-BOOM!"_

"Look at 'em all burn!"

_~There's an iron smell of blood in the air.~_

The last of the zombies in that wave died to its power, loosing their blood on the rotten boards of the walk.

_~But I can't find it anywhere.~_

They were so strangely united, that when the 'devil's dogs' as Dempsey referred to them spawned, they could not withstand the might of the men's firepower. Their howls were lost in sprays of bullets and fire and they slumped down, dead.

The new wave came and the human dead were even more powerful. They ran at them, mouths agape and eyes burning like lanterns.

_~I've been waiting for someone to find me.~_

Tank was abruptly surrounded by several of the Japanese zombies. He'd gotten too far from the others. They lashed out at him as he fired point-blank into their rotting faces.

"TOO MANY TO COUNT!"

_~And become a part of me... Become part of...~_

"I'm coming, American!" Nikolai hollered. He fried the dead with his weapon while taking a drink with his free hand. Somehow, he'd managed to find away to handle the flamethrower and vodka at the same time.

_~I've been waiting for you to come here a_nd kill me a__nd set me free... Set me free...~__

"Decided to rescue your best gunner? Solid plan."

_~I've been waiting for...~_

"Shut up, dirty capitalist." But there was amusement in the voice.

They collected themselves, gazing around in ferocity as they were once again assaulted by the beasts.

_~Blood its flavor is so metallic.~_

Nearby, Richtofen let out a string of angry curses in German. The undead closed in as his MP40 clicked on empty and he had no time to reload.

_~Smell that makes me go frenetic.~_

The undead launched themselves at him, hands lashing out.

_~Texture that I find in you is a thick and viscous glue.~_

Blood flew under angry, rotten fingers.

_~Senses have become so keen.~_

"Nein! I'm not ready for hell! I've nozhing to vear!"

_~With all I touch and all I see.~_

Instantly, Takeo's katana saved the man from the beasts as he lopped their heads off and sliced them in two for good measure. Bodies toppled in pieces.

_~There's an iron smell of blood in the air.~_

Red, thick pus spattered on them both.

_~And now I see it everywhere.~_

"Zhe service to zhe Illuminati can continue!"

_~I've been waiting for someone to find me~_

Together, the four charged at the next wave, howling war cries of defiance.

_~And become a part of me... Become a part of...~_

They would not go down!

_~I've been waiting for you t__o come here a__nd kill me an__d set me free... Oh.~_

The group became surrounded by the hungry creatures again.

_~I've been waiting for the one.~_

A combination of explosions, bullets and electricity wiped out so many of them. The zombies howled in agony as they dropped, loosing their arms, heads and legs. Crawlers sloshed forward in the murky waters, leaving blood trails from where their legs used to be.

The sound of drums filled the air just before the next line in the song.

_~I've been waiting for the one...the one...~_

"Zhere's less blood in zhese stump-walkers? Vhat's zhe point?"

_~I've been waiting for someone.~_

Bullets riddled the smaller beasts, taking their heads off to leave only a completely-dead torso with arms.

_ ~I've been waiting for you to come here and kill me... set me free... I've been waiting for...~_

_"Double-Points!"_

_"I've been wait for someone to find me...~_

"Zhe voices are getting louder!"

_~And become a part of me... Become a part of...~_

"Fucking zombies!"

_~I've been waiting for you to come here and kill me and set me free...~_

A zombie seized Takeo's shoulder, trying to bite his neck. Dempsey took it out, exploding the corpse's face all over the Samurai's.

_~I've been waiting fooooorrrrrrrr yooouuuuuuu!~_

"Arigato."

_~I've been waiting for you to come here and kill me~_

"Don't mention it."

_~I've been waiting for...~_

Several zombies rushed over the fence as the song returned to drumming, guitar and the lonely, lonely haunting nots. All the men turned, raising their weapons at the beasts. They were ready.

Because Dempsey wanted to live. Because Takeo would not be allowed any other course of action by his honor. Because Nikolai was just wanting a chance to drink once more. Because Richtofen refused to be taken down before he could achieve anything.

He unleashed the last shot of his Wunderwaffe DG2 onto them. "Electrocution! Causes so much beautiful pain!"

The last eerie notes of the song faded and the round music played, all drums and bitterness.

Would it ever end?

* * *

><p>Dempsey flipped open the box and listened to the little tune, hoping that it'd would not disgrace him this time. Last time he'd done this, it'd given him a shitty, useless pistol that had ran out of ammo before killing ten of the walking meat sacks. He'd been tempted to save the last bullet of the little gun to show the box his true feelings about it.<p>

Outside he heard Nikolai howl, "Nikolai likes his bacon crispy!" The sound of the flamethrower gushing fire caught is attention. He knew he'd rather have the flamethrower than this crappy pistol.

The cycling weapons stopped on a STG-44. He grabbed it. "Damn, I was hopin' for an MG." He growled. He shrugged, it was still better than a little, dinky pistol.

Did this box hate him? He was beginning to suspect so.

His questioned was answered when he flipped the lid on the box once again and a bloody teddy bear appeared in the light. The eerie laughter of a child filled the air. Then a deeper, demonic laughter followed. The teddy bear flew away, and the box evaporated into mist.

"Sound's like King Freakbag needs to mellow out!" He snarled in anger, kicking the crates it'd sat on.

He turned and made his way outside, were a stretch of a path twisted out of the 'yard' of the wooden facility through a little place guarded by the Flogger, a deadly-looking trap with rotating spikes on logs connected to each other by stout metal. The path stretched out to a small hut called the 'Fishing Hut'. Probably someone had used it at some point to get food for this damn place. Tank clicked away the safety on his weapon and peered into the fog.

He saw the Soviet blowing fire randomly at the monsters surrounding him in large waves down that path. Occasionally, he would comment on the fire's path. The smell of charred flesh reached his nose and he gagged silently. Sick.

_I need something to shoot._

He was obliged when a zombie began pulling boards off at a barricade nearby. The Marine turned towards it, raising his weapon. Just then there was a rattle of gunfire and it's head popped. But he hadn't even pulled the trigger.

Dempsey turned, frowning.

Richtofen stood in the opening towards the hut, still gazing down the sites of his weapon.

"Oh you see, vatch zhe blood spurt!" Howled the Nazi from where he stood, finally lowering it.

The American hated that bastard deeply. "Lucky shot, Richtofen!" He growled angrily.

Richtofen grinned savagely at him before ducking back into the doorway.

The idiot sadist was extremely creepy. He seemed to take some sort of demented pleasure in the slaughter. He always grinned at them, sometimes even when he was pissed. The glare however, was worse and full of dark promises. It was very clear his mind was gone.

Did it have something to do with that guy who'd died awhile back? Tank wasn't sure. What he knew was that the scrawny doctor was as evil, cunning and dirty as any Nazi could get. He didn't care the reason, because whatever it was, in his opinion, it did not give him the right to act a monster.

Also, the Marine could've sworn he heard the psychopath screeching about the Illuminati earlier. Who even believed those conspiracy theories? Then again, there were zombies everywhere, so who could be certain? One thing he knew for sure, whether or not the Illuminati were real, that man was fucked up. And he didn't like him one bit.

Tank turned back towards the hut and walked in, rubbing his head in annoyance. Boredom came over him, it seemed Nikolai was having all of the freaks for the moment. Nikolai wasn't too bad, if only he would quit trying to drink and shoot at the same time.

That didn't stop Dempsey from wanting a little of the communist's vodka because any booze would've been a welcome distraction to the multitudes of undead. However, he was certain that even asking would cause him to loose his head. Literally.

Takeo was standing within the hut, holding onto a Trench Gun he had gained from the box earlier. The Samurai eyed the Marine carefully, as though calculating. He held the shotgun loosely at his side, and he was as still as a statue, observant.

"Hey, Takeo!" Dempsey greeted. "Kill many freakbags during that awesome song? I saw you get three headshots with one pull of the trigger. Impressive."

The man replied in Japanese and disappeared through the door leading upstairs to the old prison room.

Tank wondered if he was the only one still sane around here.

* * *

><p>Richtofen stomped into the 'Doctor's Quarters', knocking mud off his boots onto the dirty, stained floor with short, quick stomps. Here, he was hoping to find something that might help him reach his goal, which primarily was escaping this nasty swamp of death.<p>

He was in the main room, which he knew he'd been in before. There were a few cabinets and a bookshelf against the walls, however, most were disarrayed or even destroyed. Also, there was a table with an array of bloodied tools and detailed diagrams hung up on walls of anatomy.

There was another perk machine here, labeled Double Tap Root Beer. Beside it, was the missing random box that had disappeared earlier because of the idiot American's fumbling.

"Zhere it vent," he murmured in interest. Truth though, he wasn't interested in using the 'box of pleasures' as he called it. "I vas vondering about zhe light coming from zhis place."

He paced for a moment and knelt by a familiar cabinet, flinging open the doors. He rummaged about in the papers, annoyed. Most of them were ruined by the swamp moisture and were unreadable. The few that were salvageable were useless or in Japanese. He flung them aside, cursing faintly.

"Schiza!" He growled.

He heard a moan behind him. He spun around on his heels, still crouched low to the floor. A zombie staggered towards him from outside. He took its head off with a few shots from his MP40. He cursed at it in annoyance.

Finally, he straightened to his full height, adjusting his hat and running a gloved hand over his chin in thoughtfulness.

The round music started and he groaned. Would they not get five minutes for him to work out a plan?

"Fine. Bring zhe beasts..." he muttered, walking towards a door. That's when he noticed the strange contraption.

He instantly recognized that it was electrical. He cast his gaze out over the swamp and watched as several zombies clawed from the muddied depths. He grinned and flicked on the trap. Electricity danced over the doorway from the conducters, bouncing back and forth from the floor to the ceiling.

"YEAH! ZHEY VILL BURN!

It was almost as thrilling as the Wunderwaffe. The corpses, now up and trotting, entered into the trap, oblivious. Then, lightning began to dance through their bodies with such force, that they burst into flames.

Richtofen would have gotten to enjoy the show, but he noticed another of the minions at the window, and it required his attention.

"You vill not take me!"

* * *

><p><strong>2.5 Saving the Killer<strong>

_The young boy gazed down into the pool of water, his ice-colored eyes red-rimmed with emotional agony. His hand trembled on a knife that was on his lap, and flexed, holding the blood red blade in front of him. His gaze traversed over it. He was tense with pent up feelings, stiff in his position by the pond in the grass. He wore tattered, once-fine robes that were tore in places, as if he'd run through a thicket._

_"Why'd you do it, boy?" Asked the man behind him softly._

_The boy turned his head and shoulders slightly to glance at the other, hand clenching and unclenching on the handle of the deadly weapon. He took in the sight of the long cranium, visible blue veins under the pale skin. The intent indigo eyes gazed into his very soul, as if to find something in him. Somehow, the boy new that this strange-looking man would only take the truth. Not only, though, would he take it, he would not judge the one before him for it._

_"He deserved it," the boy whispered as he dropped the knife beside him. His gaze was steely and his voice lacked in regret. "He raised his fist. He was going to hit me again...like he always did. I plunged the knife into his chest. The blood was everywhere. They called me a freak. They wanted to hang me for it. They did not understand that I had to." He turned back towards the pool of water, sighing._

_He cast a stone into it, breaking the gentle surface of the water._

_"Boy, what is your name?"_

_There was only slight hesitation before he answered, "Valens."_

_"I saved you from death, so that you may find new purpose in life..."_

_"What do you want from me? Am I to be your slave now?"_

_"Oh no," laughed the man. "Let us say...an agent."_

_"Agent...to whom?"_

_"To the Masters of Vrilya...Here, in this world if you so choose to accept. You will watch. You will listen. You will take down our enemies and raise our allies. You will do what is necessary. In the end, you will gain more than what any treasure hunt could bring to you. You will be gifted beyond emperors and kings."_

_The boy's eyes widened as he glanced at the other. "How?"_

_"Ever heard of immortality?"_

_"Yes...like the demigods of old. But there was always a price...the gods demanded."_

_"The price is this, you will serve us. Not as a slave, but as a man of worth. No one will call you monster lest you so choose. If they do, they will regret it in the face of your wrath. No one will hurt you ever again."_

_The man reached a hand out to the boy. He took it, the blood that was still wet connecting them. _

_The blood of a murder. _

_Already the young boy had shed the precious liquid. Already, so young, he'd taken a life. Already he had walked steps that many would have avoided. He had something within. A gift, and the man knew that he'd found the perfect agent in this world. He also knew, that despite the boy's age, he would grow quickly. _

_And then, the Earth would be in the hands of the Masters._

* * *

><p><strong>End of chapter 2!<strong>

I'm trying something new out! :D Hope you liked it! Pay attention though because it's important to the story XD Let's see if anyone can figure out what the heck 2.5 was about, lol :)


End file.
